


3 Times They Pretended to be Married (And once they actually were)

by GrannyBoo



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: 3+1 fic, Drabble, M/M, fake married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 08:32:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17076914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrannyBoo/pseuds/GrannyBoo





	3 Times They Pretended to be Married (And once they actually were)

1

It was in a moment of panic.

It wasn’t intended to become what it ended up being but that split second between opening his mouth and answering with the first thing that popped into his head normally worked far smoother.

And Caleb normally lied with the rest of them when asked his name by the guard.

“Who’re you and what’re you doin’ here?” the gruff voice of the guardsman that had caught Fjord and Caleb by surprise trespassing during their investigation in the alley by the council’s meeting hall, the voices startled the pair, turning on the spot to face the blade aimed at their chests. Three guardsmen total watching and expecting some answer. Fjord’s eyes flicked to Caleb, seeing the minor panic in his eyes, hands twitching towards his components pouch but unable to reach it without one of the guards noticing.

“Well? Who are you?”

“Widogast-“

“Widogast-“

Fjord felt his stomach drop to the floor, watching the looks of confusion from the guardsmen.

“You’re _both_ Widogast?”

Fjord’s mind ran through his file of lies, landing on the first one that would explain why he and Caleb were hiding away from the public and have the same surname.

“We’re married.”

Caleb turned to look up at him, blue eyes incredulous, so stunned he doesn’t react when Fjord curled an arm around his waist and pulls him in so their hips bump together.

“So funny, you’re such a joker, honey-bee,” his voice is molasses sweet, a doting smile at the guards. “We got married recently and my darlin’ husband _still_ gets confused when we say the same last name,” Fjord says, so believable in his tone and gestures that Caleb had to wonder if he hadn’t rehearsed this at some point in time.

“You’re not supposed to be back here-“

“I _am_ sorry about that. My sweetheart and I were feeling a little uh-“ he gave the guards a conspiratorial grin and the three looked at each other, one rolling his eyes while another chuckled and shook his head. “You understand, we just wanted to hide away for a little rendezvous if you know what I mean?”

Caleb just stared up at Fjord, breaking out of it when Fjord looks back, leaning in and giving him a peck on the nose.

“He gets a little shy. We do apologise, we’ll just be on our way-“

“I think we’d best escort you. Some crazy is goin’ around and killing citizens, can’t be too safe, eh?” one suggested, the trio gesturing for Caleb and Fjord to walk out of the alcove. Caleb’s smile is forced and embarrassed as Fjord steers him out of the alleyway, hand sliding away from his hip to intertwine their fingers together, bumping their shoulders every now and then.

“ _What in the nine-“_

 _“I panicked, I was lookin’ at you and your name popped up, why in the hell were you gonna give your_ real _name?”_

 _“I_ always- _“_

_“oh ‘always’? Phillip?”_

The pair’s whispered bickering stopped when one of the guards coughed awkwardly and they realised what it looked like: a lover’s spat in public and Caleb let out a sigh.

“I am just embarrassed… _mein liebster_ , let us go back to the inn. These nice gentlemen need to get back to work and we can _talk about this_ there,” Caleb’s cheeks were red and he glanced around for any sign of the Nein, hoping they’d finished their own investigations and were back at the inn.

“I’m sorry, angel.”

The walk back to the inn took the better part of 45 minutes, interspersed with questions from the more lighthearted guardsman making polite but frustrating small talk.

“So how long’ve you been together?” he seemed the romantic type, smiling and waving off the groans from the second while listening with rapt attention to Fjord and Caleb.

“Goin’ on ten years. Only just got the coin together to have a proper wedding.”

“That’s sweet. How’d you two lovebirds meet?”

 “At the circus…”

While the story Fjord spun to the guardsman featured bits of pieces of the truth, it was mostly rose-tinted fantasy about two young men going in adventures together with some friends, a whirlwind romance layered with just enough truth to be believable and just enough fiction to hide their identities, leading up to their arrival in the town and finding out about the murders.

Thankfully the questions about their entirely fictional love life ended at the door of the inn, the rowdy voices of the companions coming from inside.

“Thank you for the escort but I’m sure my darlin’ husband and I have it from here. Have a good evenin’ fellas,” Fjord bids, leading Caleb in while they wave awkwardly at the guardsmen as they leave. “That could’ve ended far worse-“

“We are here for another week, Fjord. Consider: if we do not keep up appearances to the guard, and guards talk, it is all they do beyond pestering common folk, then they will know we were not sneaking off to blow each other-“

“ _I said nothing_ -“

“It was _heavily_ implied, _Mr Widogast_. But if we do not act the part, they will realise, as stupid as they might appear to be, that we were not there…. _canoodling_ and will come to question us.”

“’Canoodling-‘”

“’Blowing each other’ offended your delicate ears, _dear husband,_ ” Caleb hissed, “now if you will excuse me, I am going to bed,” he stormed off, realising too late that he was still holding Fjord’s hand, almost dragging him into a table. He let go, rambling under his breath as he passed by the rest of the Nein to head for the stairs.

“What’s up his ass?”

Beau piped up from behind Fjord, handing him a glass of firewhiskey and sipping at her ale while she watched Caleb’s retreating back.

“I’ve got no idea in hell,” he hid his face behind the glass, wandering with Beau over to the table with their companions.

-

2

The investigation in the town went down with very few issues after that and the Mr and Mr Widogast incident remained unspoken of for a fair time (barring the times Beau and Jester found out and teased them until they threatened to make them walk beside the cart).

A few months later, the party had been separated, assailed, and eventually brought back to town, albeit heavily damaged.

Fjord especially, had been badly injured, taking a vicious burst of necrotic energy intended for Caleb and Nott, screaming in agonising pain on the ground while Caleb sent a similar spell back at the assailant, his focus shifting to Fjord before the caster could even hit the ground.

They were taken to a medical wing, Fjord taken while the Lawmaster questioned them, dismissing them with a thank you and a reward for ridding them of the necromancer.

“What do you mean we cannot see him?”

Jester’s indignant voice echoes all of their thoughts but the weary man at the desk sighs, repeating himself as he’d likely done many times that day.

“There is limited space within the ward. We only allow family.”

Caleb doesn’t think much beyond ‘Fjord is alone and nearly died protecting Nott and I’ so when he raises his hand and steps towards the desk, he is on autopilot.

“I’m his husband. I would like to see him,” Caleb receives a look from the man at the desk, then a nod.

“This way.”

It worked. Caleb gives the others a look, urging them to wait while he moves ahead, entering the room as directed by the assistant.

“The cleric will be by soon.”

Caleb nods and thanks the man, his eyes fixed on Fjord’s prone body on the bed, still clothed, but his armour removed and set aside. His brow was furrowed and his green skin coated in a light sheen of sweat as he twitched and made choked noises of pain.

“Fjord, can you hear me?” Caleb murmurs, moving in close enough to see Fjord’s eyes move beneath his closed lids, aborted words slipping from his lips every now and then. The door opened once more and in walked a middle aged halfling, smiling gently at Caleb.

“Ah, the husband? Its alright, just pretend I’m not here,” she assures him. Caleb shuffles uncomfortably. Right. Husband. He slips his hand around Fjord’s, taking a seat at the edge of the bed.

“Will he be alright?”

“Yes, he should be fine. It just took a little time to figure out the appropriate counter curse. But rest assured, sir, your husband will be out of here by this evening,” her voice is soothing as she sets up components for a spell on the side table, careful to move around Caleb when possible and ensure their contact was never disturbed.

Caleb didn’t realise until Fjord’s temperature started to settle back into his normal warmth that he’d been stroking the man’s hand.

Fjord’s look of confusion when the cleric bid them both goodbye, calling them Mr and Mr Widogast, Caleb just called him something in Zemnian and held his hand as they walked out, Fjord still bleary and perfectly content to grip Caleb’s hand a little tighter.

-

3

“This may seem strange but, I promise, it’s a sure thing. You’ve just gotta agree on it.”

“Mr Clay, I still do not understand how marriage would assist us in combat.”

Caleb and Fjord stood, facing each other with Caduceus beside them, watching them both with a smile.

“It’s a simple spell that uses your bond with the other person to strengthen your resolve. You move a little faster, you are a little harder to hit because they are with you, helping to protect you. It goes both ways and is entirely painless, I assure you,” the cleric takes the piece of cloth, tying it around Fjord and Caleb’s wrists.

They were heading into a dungeon, apparently housing a powerful entity and they Nein were grasping at whatever straws they could to defend themselves. Including, apparently, a magical marriage ceremony. Nott and Jester had crowed about their best friend marriage, how their detective agency would be Brave and Lavorre, Wives and Detectives at Large. Beau and Yasha had blushed, staying quiet through the process but not making much argument. A telling sort of silence. Leaving Caduceus, who had to cast the spell out of the ring.

And Fjord and Caleb left to be married.

“It’s only a spell, its not like you’re going to be _married_ married. Unless you want to~” Jester cooed at the pair, bringing a flush to Caleb and Fjord’s cheeks.

“Just get it done so we can go kill this asshole,” Fjord grumbled, his hand in Caleb’s, looking at the man’s chin instead of his face.

The spell was relatively simple, just the pair, hands clasped and bound together while Caduceus chanted and hummed. Fjord felt a warmth, spreading from their joined hands up to his chest and settling comfortably there, like it always belonged.

“And it is done,” Caduceus announces, untying their hands and giving them pats on the back. “Congratulations Mr and Mr Widogast.”

Fjord and Caleb look at each other, hands still clasped together, just studying the warmth emanating from the contact.

“You can let go now,” Caduceus whispers with a sly smile. They do, but the warmth remains.

-

1+

Years later, Fjord strokes the paler underside of Caleb’s wrist, arms bound together by perfectly white cloth, embroidered with gold.

“Well this is awfully familiar.”

“And entirely unnecessary. We have technically been married for seven years-“

“Well I feel like renewing our vows, how about you, darlin’?” Fjord teased, getting a small honest smile from Caleb.

“Well, if we are all ready,” Caduceus calls out, their friends all quietening down in the garden of their shared home. “We’re here today to witness the, second, but still just as special, joining of our friends…”


End file.
